


My Favorite Damn Disease

by Sincestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A little bit anyway, Bottom Dean, Come Marking, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Hand Jobs, I'm sorry okay, Kinda, M/M, Sam is seventeen, Sibling Incest, So possibly underage, Voyeurism, a bit of, a pillow is defiled, even thought there's no sex, idk what this is, it's yours now, just take it, okay, title from a nickelback song, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 13:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9236684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sincestiel/pseuds/Sincestiel
Summary: Dean’s barely got the door to their shack of the week shut when he hears the tell-tale thump of a headboard against the wall.  He’s frozen in shock for several seconds before a grin spreads over his face.  At least one of them’s getting laid tonight.  He struck out at the small bar in town.  Unusual, but not necessarily unheard of.  It happens even to him from time to time.  But it sounds like Sammy’s doing well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive the use of a Nickelback song for the title. But I actually like Figured You Out. And I'm not all that sorry. Heed the warnings in the tags and then proceed with caution. It's not actually even that bad. I've written worse.
> 
> I didn't warn for underage here, because Sam is seventeen. That's legal pretty much everywhere, right? If anyone thinks it needs to have an underage warning, let me know and I'll take care of it.

Dean’s barely got the door to their shack of the week shut when he hears the tell-tale thump of a headboard against the wall. He’s frozen in shock for several seconds before a grin spreads over his face. At least one of them’s getting laid tonight. He struck out at the small bar in town. Unusual, but not necessarily unheard of. It happens even to him from time to time. But it sounds like Sammy’s doing well.

It’s probably the cute little brunette he’s been studying with, Dean thinks. But the fact that he’s not really sure draws him closer to the closed door of their shared room. He’d better just crack the door open and check. Just to make sure Sam really is getting his dick wet and not being attacked. Honestly, given Sam’s track record – at seventeen the kid’s never even had his hand up a girl’s shirt as far as Dean knows – it’s more likely some beasty is choking him out.

That’s sound reasoning for what he does next he figures.

The door opens without so much as a creak, swinging easily to about a six inch gap before Dean stops it. He fits his face in the crack and quickly scans the room – nothing in disarray more than normal. Then his eyes light on the bed. Just a quick look, just to make sure Sam’s okay. But his eyes hang on the gentle slope of Sam’s back as he holds himself up on his forearms. And then there’s the dip at the bottom of his spine, milky white in the glow of moonlight coming through the curtain-free window. But what really draws Dean’s gaze is the flex-release of his perky ass cheeks as he thrusts carefully into… nothing. The bed? A pillow maybe?

God but he’s humping a fucking pillow and wow. Okay. Dean’s been there, alright? He’s humped a few pillows in his time. But he’s pretty sure he never looked quite so delicious doing it. And he doesn’t even know where that thought comes from, because he doesn’t think he’s been perving on his little brother recently. Or, like, ever. But now he is and there’s no denying it. Fuck.

He doesn’t even think about it past the brainpower it takes to pull the door shut behind him, he just steps into the room and makes his way silently toward the twin sized bed Sam’s currently defiling. The thought that Sam might not want Dean climbing on with him or touching him never even crosses Dean’s mind. It’s Sammy. And Dean’s been the one to help him, teach him, and guide him his whole fucking life. This doesn’t really feel that much different.

So Dean drops his jacket in the floor and slides onto the bed, still fully clothed. When Sam jerks and tries to roll away, Dean stops him with a hand at the base of his spine. Just lightly touching. Sam could still throw him off and roll off the bed if he wants. But he doesn’t move. He feels like a nervous ball of energy under Dean’s palm, the skin warm and tacky with sweat, but he stays statue still, staring at the headboard of the bed instead of looking at Dean.

“’S okay, Sammy,” Dean whispers, his heart beating rabbit fast in his chest because suddenly he’s nervous. Suddenly he’s rethinking this. Maybe he should have shacked up on the couch for the night and left Sam to romance the pillow on his own. Except Sam isn’t running. So maybe this really is okay?

“I-” Sam starts, jaw clenching as he snaps it shut, obviously at a loss for how to explain this compromising position in which Dean’s found him.

“It’s okay,” Dean offers again, his hand sliding up and down minutely now, like calming a wild animal. Gentle hushing sounds slip out unbidden, but Sam starts to relax.

“I was just… _hard_ ,” the word slips out hoarsely, like Sam’s ashamed, and then, “and no one was here, and… I…”

Sam doesn’t continue but Dean doesn’t really need him to. The rest isn’t hard to figure out. And instead of reminding Sam, again, that it’s okay, Dean lets his hand slip lower, the tips of his fingers grazing the swell of Sam’s ass. And then he presses down and in, urging Sam to roll his hips. “Keep going. Doing good, baby.”

The words come out breathy and barely there, just a whisper of a suggestion that Sam can ignore if he wants. But judging by the way his body shudders and he gasps before burying his face in his pillow and shoving down, hard and fast, into the other pillow shoved under his naked hips, he doesn’t want to ignore it at all.

“Yeah. Again, Sammy. Roll your hips a little more. Can really make a girl squeal if you do it right.”

Sam is trembling under him as Dean scoots closer, pressing the front of his body against Sam’s bare side. He keeps his waist pulled back just enough though. As long as Sam doesn’t feel his hard on, this is just Dean teaching him. Plausible deniability.

Dean splays his hand wider over Sam’s lower back and the top of his ass and then pushes down again, holding this time and guiding Sam into a grind. Sam whimpers and follows Dean’s lead, swirling his hips against the pillow.

“Some of ‘em like it deep like that, Sammy. Push in and hold it just like that. You gotta grip their thighs and keep them wide open, baby. Reach down and give their clit a little attention with your thumb.” Dean’s breathing the words right into Sam’s ear now, hot and filthy and he delights in the way Sam shivers and pants for him.

“How…” Sam starts, muffled against the pillow at first. But then he seems to steel himself, his body going completely rigid as he turns his head and meets Dean’s eye in the dim light. His face is so red it’s evident even in the bad lighting, but he swallows hard, and his voice is more even when he continues, “How would you want it, Dean?”

For a second Dean can’t figure out what Sam’s asking but once he does he can’t deny the dirty thrill that runs down his spine. Fuck. God. What if Sam was over him? Splitting him open. Making Dean take his cock… What would Dean want? Shit. Okay. That’s not something he’s ever considered past a vague interest when he presses against his perineum when he’s jerking off. But now that he is, there’s definitely some serious curiosity there. 

Some guys would probably freak out at the idea that they might enjoy anal sex. And if that didn’t get a typical guy, the incest part of this equation certainly would. But Dean isn’t a normal guy. He’s always walked the wrong side of the tracks and he’s nothing if not hedonistic. So yeah. If the thought of Sam pressing into him makes his dick throb – and it does – then he’s got no problem exploring that a little further. At least not while he’s hard and practically gagging for it anyway.

“Just a second,” Dean says, leaning back and reaching into the second drawer of the dresser between their beds to fish out a half full bottle of lube. Sam’s hand grasps his arm when he tilts too far trying to close the drawer back and almost falls. They’re both grinning when he wiggles back into his spot next to Sam’s overheated body. And that helps ease Dean into this a little more. Sam’s obviously okay. Nervous, no doubt. And there’s a tilt to his mouth that Dean recognizes as worry, maybe that Dean’s going to flip. But he’s on board and willing.

With Sam’s eyes following his every move, Dean flicks open the lid of the lube with one hand while he’s unfastening his fly with the other. He eases his own hard, leaking dick out of his jeans, warming slightly when Sam’s eyes flick down and he… fuck. He licks his goddamn lips and Dean moans because that one tiny motion opens up so many possibilities. But not tonight. They need something kind of tame and safe for tonight. This is all too new. So he slicks up both of his hands and then drops the bottle on the floor. It’ll probably get lost in the dirty clothes for now, but that’s okay.

“Lift up a little,” Dean says, and then he slides his left hand under Sam, both of them gasping when it finds Sam’s cock. Kid’s pretty big already, Dean thinks as he wraps his hand around Sam’s length. And he’s probably still got some growing to do. Sam’s hips stutter forward when Dean makes a tight, wet tunnel for him to fuck into.

“Slow at first, Sammy, okay? I’d want you to go slow.” 

“Oh god,” Sam says, voiced already wrecked, breathy and raw as he fucks into Dean’s hand once, slow and easy just like Dean asked.

“Yeah, baby. Such a good boy. That’s it,” Dean praises, finding his own dick with his right hand and setting the same pace Sam’s picking up. And Sam is so gentle, his hips carefully pushing forward and then easing back and fuck if Dean doesn’t want to know just how it would feel for it to be his ass Sam’s pushing into.

“Come on, baby boy, a little deeper. I can take it,” Dean murmurs, daring to lean closer and run his tongue over the shell of Sam’s ear. Sam jerks at the contact, but then he leans into Dean, baring his ear and neck to Dean’s mouth.

“Wanted this for so long,” Sam breathes out, the confession jolting Dean’s heart and making his dick pulse in his own hand.

“Yeah? Then speed up, baby, let me feel how much you’ve wanted to fuck me. Yeah, come on, fuck my hand, Sammy. Feels so good.”

Sam’s hips speed up then, and he’s arching up onto his hands, looking down his body to see the head of his pretty dick peek out of Dean’s fist. And it _is_ pretty. All flushed and shiny with lube, popping out from between Dean’s pointer finger and thumb before sliding back in, the foreskin bunching at the tip. Dean wants to taste it. Flick his tongue over the slit and see if that little bead resting there is as tasty as it looks.

He says as much out loud and Sam’s hips stall. He grits his teeth and throws his head back. And then, “Fuck Dean, you can’t say shit like that. I’m gonna… gonna come.”

“Yeah?” Dean takes that as more of a challenge than a threat. “Why don’t you come for me then, Sammy? And then you can roll over and let me come all over your cock.”

“God, _Dean_.” Sam’s hips snap forward then, hard and fast, his dick plunging into the channel of Dean’s fist so hard it almost has to be painful. Dean has a flash of an idea, him on his elbows and knees, ass high and back arched, Sam plowing into him at a punishing speed and he has to grip the base of his cock to keep from coming.

“Want you to fuck me, Sammy. Just like this baby. Want that gorgeous fucking cock so deep that I can feel it in my fucking throat. Let me have it. Show me how you’d fuck me, Sammy. Come on.” He’s not even really sure what he’s saying. All he’s aware of is just how hot Sam is fucking into his hand, head thrown back and his pale neck begging for Dean’s teeth marks. His hair is spilling down the back of his head brushing over his bunched shoulders and Dean wants to tangle his fingers in it. And those lips, open and swollen red and suddenly Dean wants to lick into Sam’s mouth.

So he does. He surges up, letting go of his own cock and using that hand to tangle in Sam’s hair and guide his head down. And then he’s nibbling at Sam’s lips, sucking and teasing until Sam’s tongue darts out to invite him in. Just as Dean’s tongue glides over Sam’s front teeth, the kid comes, flooding over Dean’s fists with a sweet little whine that has Dean smiling against his mouth.

And for a minute Dean’s confused, because Sam pulls away and rolls over, reaching out to guide Dean up and over him. Having Sam like this, naked and spent under him makes Dean regret not taking off his clothes. But then Sam’s gripping his wrist and pulling his hand down to his crotch, encouraging him to touch himself.

“Come on me, Dean. Let me have it. God, please.”

“Shit,” Dean swears, stripping his cock fast and hard because Sammy debauched and begging for Dean’s come is too goddamn much. And when Sam leans up enough to work a hand under Dean’s balls, rubbing at them with his palm as his fingers dive farther back, just brushing over his hole, Dean loses it.

He does manage to get some of his release aimed over Sam’s crotch like he promised, but most of it lands on the pillow still under Sam’s ass. And he’s still shivering through the aftershocks when Sam hunches over and presses the gentlest kiss to the head of his dick, just a hint of tongue sneaking out to taste him. If Dean could come again so fast, he would. As it is, he just flops down over the top of his little brother and hopes he doesn’t crush him. 

Sam’s hands roam over his back, venturing under his shirts from time to time in his explorations, and down to his ass. And Dean just lets him, moaning appreciatively when Sam gets a handful of ass cheek and kneads at the denim covered flesh.

“Wow,” Sam says finally, “I didn’t know you liked… I mean, I just thought it was girls for you. I didn’t know.”

Dean huffs out a laugh and bites playfully at the collarbone under his head, “Me either.”

“Oh,” Sam says, concern evident in the way the sound rolls cautiously off his tongue and the way his hands still, “Fuck. So, um, how freaked out are you? One to ten.”

Dean shrugs. At first he would have said a negative million. But that was in the heat of the moment. He’s still not too weirded out about it. But he knows the potential for major freakage is there, just under the surface of his post coital haze.

“Two? Could get worse? But probably not bad enough to keep me from doing it again.”

Dean feels Sam nod and his hands start moving again. He’s silent for several long minutes before he asks, “Is it more the brother thing? Or the gay aspect?”

“Both,” Dean answers honestly, “But alone neither one of them is too much to handle. So it’ll probably be okay.”

Sam nods again and then works his hands under Dean to start pushing him up and off, “Alright then. You don’t sound like a flight risk and I need a shower. I think I have lube in my hair.”

“Oh, you definitely have lube in your hair,” Dean confirms with a broad smirk and he lifts up just in time to see Sam rolls his eyes. But there’s a glint there Dean finds worrisome. And once Sam is up and at the door, too far away for Dean to beat the ever loving fuck out of him, he says, “That’s okay. I was humping _your_ pillow.” And he’s gone with a gleeful cackle.

Oh. The little asshole. Dean throws the mostly clean pillow to his bed and adjusts the dirty one at the head of Sam’s, wet spot up. It’ll serve the little fucker right. 

And then he follows Sam into the bathroom. He’s not good for another round just yet. But he needs to wash off too. And he might steal and kiss or two if Sam’s agreeable.

And Sam is.


End file.
